Miracle working, or is it magic?

Driving to work this morning, with my face close to the wheel, eyes squinting through the rain that was beating at my windscreen, I found it hard to believe that only a few days ago I was luxuriating in Cornish luxury at Retallack Resort.

Holidays simply don’t last long enough and already my body aches to return to Cornwall.

The week was astounding, the resort incredible, and it left an impression on us all.

Did I tell you the story about BB?

BB was diagnosed with Hip Dysplasia at 19 months old and she had intensive surgery to correct her hip and lived in a spica cast for 3 months which started at her tummy and stretched down to her toes. She has done remarkably well since coming out of spica, however ‘normal’ physical milestones have always been delayed for her. She didn’t walk until she was 28 months, she only learnt to jump in the last year, and she still walks with a faint limp and has problems extending and abducting her left limb.

She is not known for her running – or her endurance for any distance.

When we packed the car tightly for our trip to Retallack, we forgot to pack the buggy, the first time we have gone away without taking BB’s wheels.

The Cornish air worked a treat and we survived without her carriage, and watched her walk a little further each day, either sandwiched between a twin or holding mine or her Daddy’s hand.

Then Friday came.

The sun rose high in the sky over Padstow and created an illusion of Summer, an excited BB threw herself into my arms and cried, ‘the ducks, mummy, lets feed the ducks.’

Retallack has a lake where geese and swans pass the hours away, waiting for the next child to visit armed with bread.

And so we went, the five of us, and a loaf, a tea cake and a few chocolate muffins, and the ducks were grateful for the bits they managed to steal from BB’s mitts.

The twins noticed that a running track circled the lake and their eyes shone as they suggested an idea of a race, before I had time to consider the challenge they were off, their voices lingering on the breeze asking me to catch them up.

“C’mon Mummy,” pleaded BB, “run with me.”

And she began, she ran with a wobble, striding one leg out in front of the next, maintaining a speed I never thought she could reach, and she didn’t stop.

She didn’t pause at the first bend, she didn’t falter when we came across some mud, she didn’t slow as her breath started to rasp.

She ran the whole distance of the lake, a distance I have never dreamed she could do, and then, my beautiful, resilient little girl did it all over again.